I Can't Be One, Because They Don't Exist!
by pingo1387
Summary: America looks ill at a World Meeting, and England wants to find out why. What he finds will strengthen the bond between him and America as they journey to find a cure. USUK FRIENDSHIP, rated T to be safe.
1. America, Are You Alright?

England looked worriedly at America. The blue-eyed nation looked ill, with large bags under his eyes and paler skin than usual.

_I should probably check up on him after the meeting… I hope he's alright._

When the meeting ended and the countries began to disperse back to their cars, England quickly walked over to America, who had just stood up.

"America! It's almost lunchtime, so would you like to come to McD*nald's with me?"

America looked bemusedly at England. "Huh? _You're_ inviting _me_?"

"Yes."

"Okay! Sure, I'll go! There's a really good one near—"

"They're all exactly alike."

"Fine, but I'll show you the closest one, okay?"

"Alright."

(linebreak)

"America, wake up. We're here." England attempted to rouse the sleeping Yankee, who had dropped off a minute after they entered the car, leaving England to search for the restaurant on his own.

America stretched and yawned. "Whuh? Oh, we're here!"

"America, did you get any sleep last night?"

"I dunno. I think I went to bed at about ten, but I could have woken up a couple times in the night."

"Try to get more sleep tonight, okay?"

America waved a hand impatiently. "Quit being such an old lady. I'm fine!"

Once inside the fast food place, America immediately walked up to the counter and ordered three hamburgers, "Hero-sized, and make 'em rare!"

England had a salad.

While sitting at their table, England noticed that America had already gobbled two of his 'hero-burgers' and was ravenously tearing into the third like a wild animal.

"America, are you sure you're feeling alright?"

He looked at the burger in his hands in surprise. "Whoa. What am I doing? I don't even like rare meat! ... I think…"

"Alfred. Be honest. _Are you sick?_"

"Dude! I told you, I'm not sick!"

"Has anything unusual happened to you recently?"

America shook his head, but he stopped, thought hard (which on his face looked rather like constipation) and slowly nodded.

"Well… it's really little, but… a couple months ago, I was on a walk at about ten after midnight 'cuz I couldn't sleep, and there was this big dog running down the street. I tried to catch up to it to see if it had a collar, but it turned around and scratched my hand! Bit it, too." He took off the glove on his left hand and showed England several pink lines and puncture marks. "Come to think of it, it might have been a wolf…"

England looked nervously at the marks. "America, those look pretty deep."

"Well, they don't really hurt anymore… but last month and last night, they started itching pretty badly right before bed."

"You didn't get them checked with a doctor for rabies?"

"Nope! The hero does not go to doctors!"

"Why don't you come back to my house (**A/N: The meeting was held in Britain**) and I'll give you a check-up, alright?"

"Since when are you a doctor?"

"I'm going to use a quick spell. And thanks to today's technology, I don't have to translate the results from Latin and write them down; I've rigged the spell to automatically print the results from my fax machine in English."

America rolled his eyes. "Sure, sure, a 'spell'… just do whatever you're really going to do."

"I'll have you know that…"

**Just insert a ridiculous, 30-minute long argument here :)**

**America's results next chapter!**


	2. America, There's Something Wrong

Sitting in a wooden chair in the middle of England's basement, America squirmed uncomfortably. "Iggy, why does it have to be this chair? It's so uncomfortable!"

"You can sit on the floor, if you'd prefer," muttered England, looking through some books.

"It'd probably be more comfortable," America humphed, but nevertheless, he stayed in the chair.

"Here we are!" Holding the book in front of him, England said, "_Laever ot su eht htlaeh fo siht nosrep… laever ot su eht htlaeh fo siht nosrep._"

A bright white light snaked out of the book and curled itself around America, who found that he could not move. The light turned red and vanished, leaving only the sound of a machine in the corner of the room. England fetched the paper and scanned it. His eyes widened.

"So? It says I'm fine, right?"

"America, let me ask you something."

"Yeah?"

"Do you… believe in werewolves?"

America blinked. "Werewolves? Of course not!"

"I think you'd better start believing."

"Huh? Why?"

England showed the paper to America, who snatched it and read the text. His eyes widened in a fashion similar to England's, but he relaxed and laughed.

"Ha, very funny, Iggy. Either your 'magic' is total bullshit after all, or you're playing a joke on me."

"This is no joke, and my magic has never failed me."

"Yeah. If I'm a werewolf, then you're the queen of Engl – wait…" he took a closer look at England. "Come to think of it, maybe you've been disguising yourself as the queen…"

"You know that I'm not. If you'd really like me to prove it to you, will you let me stay over at your house on the full moon next month? That way I can witness the transformation. I can also cast a spell that allows you to regain your human consciousness while in wolf form."

"Sure, if it will get you to stop believing in this werewolf crap. But if you're right, it would explain two things."

"Oh?"

"It would explain why my door was broken down and why I woke up outside of it naked."

…

**The following moon**

"So, Iggy, you're not going to sleep?"

"Of course not. You might attack me in my sleep, whether you're aware of it or not, and I need to be awake in order to cast the spell."

America waved his hand. "Sure, whatever. Guess this'll prove that I'm right. G'night!"

He rolled over and promptly started snoring like a sawmill.

England drank his coffee (the taste was vile, but the caffeine necessary) and read a book.

The cable box in the room flicked to display 12:00. England got up to check on America…

**The wild AUTHOR used CLIFFHANGER!**

** It's super-effective!**

** What will READER do?**

** -Post a review**

** -Throw PokeBall**

**-Run away**


	3. America, Nruter Ot Flesruoy!

England's eyes widened at the sight before him. America was curled up into a ball under his bedcovers, his limbs shaking wildly. Hair – thick, straw-colored hair – was sprouting from every pore on his body. His eyes sprang open – no longer a bright, cheery blue, but a piercing, predatory yellow.

The wolf uncurled and sprang out of bed, ripping the boxers it had previously been wearing. It turned and saw England. Snarling, it gathered itself to spring.

Remembering just in time, England cried, "_Nruter ot fles—_AH!"

Before he could complete the words, the wolf had leaped at him, knocking the wind out of him. England sat up, dazed. The wolf had landed behind him and looked like it was preparing to jump again. England, more quickly this time, yelled "_Nruter ot flesruoy!_"

A blue trail of smoke snaked out of England's trembling hand and curled around the wolf. It stood, sniffing suspiciously at it.

"_N… nruter ot flesruoy!_"

This completed the spell. The blue smoke surrounded the wolf completely, leaving only a foggy shape for England to see. The wolf's growls gradually slowed until only silence remained. The blue smoke cleared to reveal a nervous wolf with, not dangerous yellow eyes, but bright blue human-color ones.

The wolf whimpered, then stopped and seemed confused. It glanced down and its eyes widened. Whimpering, it turned and saw the tail attached to its backside. Then it turned and saw England sitting up on the floor, rubbing his chest.

Wolf-America barked and happily bounded over to England, licking his face with slobbery kisses. England smiled with relief and gently pushed the wolf off of him.

"Don't worry, America. You didn't hurt me. I just got knocked over is all."

America whined and wagged his tail expectantly.

"You want to know when you'll change back?"

He panted happily and wagged his tail harder.

"Come the sunrise, you'll be back to your human form."

America licked England's face again, then yawned and started to curl up.

"Not so fast, America!" said England, alarmed. "If you go to sleep, there's a chance that the wolf will take over again!"

Wolf-America quickly blinked his eyes opened and whined.

"You should be able to stay awake. Come on, I'll get you some food – America?"

America, of course, was already at the kitchen. England smiled, and muttering, "Of course," he followed the wolf to the kitchen.

The two spent several hours awake together. Close to dawn, they headed back upstairs to watch TV. When sunlight finally began to creep through the blinds, Wolf-America whimpered; then howled. He curled into a ball, his limbs shaking as they had done those hours ago – but this time, the hair shrank back into his skin, and he was left with bare skin, messed-up dirty-blond hair with that lock sticking up, and hands and feet instead of paws.

America opened his normal human eyes. He looked at his hands and sighed in relief. Standing up, he grabbed his glasses from the nightstand and grinned at England. "Iggy, that was the—why are you all red? Oh…" he blushed and quickly grabbed a pillow to cover his crotch.

"Just put on some clothes, please. We'll talk later."

"So, um…" America stirred his instant coffee into the hot water, blowing on it and taking a sip before adding about ten sugars. "Um… thanks for helping me last night."

England nodded and smiled. "Th… think nothing of it." He yawned, prompting America to do the same. The two hadn't gotten any sleep last night – save America, with the hour he had before midnight.

"So…" said America, sitting at the table with England and blowing on his coffee again. "What now?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"…"

"We need to find a cure."

"Oh, I knew that," said America quickly, "I was just being nice and letting you say it first – wait, how are we going to find a cure?"

England smiled again. "Where do _you_ think we should start?"

"Google."

"No. No, not Google."

* * *

**"There's only one man who can solve this case, and I know just where to find him!"**

**"Paris?"**

**"No. No, not Paris."**

**"Aw, I'm never going to go to Paris."**

**-The Great Louse Detective (The Simpsons)**

**If an American claims to have done 'extensive research', it usually means that they spent an hour wading through Google pages. At least, that's how it is for me. **


	4. America, Stop Stuffing Your Face

"So," said America, leaning against the door in a manner that suggested boredom, "where are we going again?"

"We're going to visit the frog. Honestly, America, this is the third time I've told you."

The two were in England's car heading to France's house. It had been two days since the full moon, what with explaining to their bosses that they were going on a trip and setting things up.

"…and please remind me, what does this have to do with a cure?"

"France's country was plagued by werewolves many centuries ago. Mine, not so much. So, much as I hate to admit it, he's probably the best person to go to."

"…_aaaand_ if he doesn't know how to cure one?"

"Then we'll go to, I don't know… Italy or Lithuania."

"Italy?"

"He had werewolves, too. Not as many as France, but…"

"Dude, you make it like having werewolves is like having hives."

"I don't see how-"

"Slugbug!" America yelled, punching England's arm.

"Ow! Now is not the time! And must you use all your strength!?"

"Yeah."

"Git."

* * *

"Well, if it isn't _angleterre et amerique, les amoureux!_" France exclaimed.

England flushed. "You know perfectly well that America and I aren't like that."

"Huh?" America turned from France to England, clearly confused. "What'd he say? I got 'England' and 'America', but what's 'ameroh'?"

"Never you mind, _mon petit chou,_" said France, opening the door wider. "Come in, come in! Let big brother France treat you to croissants and _café_!"

When the group had settled, quietly eating croissants (although England was grumpily eating his, fuming that they were so good, and America was scarfing down three at a time) and sipping coffee, France asked, "Now, why would you both come to see me?"

England and America glanced at each other. "Well," said England, clearing his throat, "we actually… were curious about the werewolf attacks that you suffered from all those years ago."

"Oh?" France set down his half-empty cup of coffee with a small frown. "Now why would you two be interested in that?"

America and England shared a look. "Uh…" said America. "We'll tell you later."

France shrugged. "All right. The attacks were rather devastating on our towns – at least ten or so people were killed each full moon. To be honest, I always felt sorry for the poor creatures; they had no control over themselves while changed, after all." He looked at America. "What's wrong, _amerique?_"

America tried to cover up his worried expression with a smile and quickly stuffed his face with another croissant. "Nuffin'! So d'd y' 'v'r h'lp 'ny 'f fuh w'lves?"

"What?" said France, attempting to keep his disgusted face at the crumbs spewing from America's mouth hidden.

England glared at America for his poor manners and translated: "He asked if you ever helped any of the werewolves." These words were supported by America's vigorous nodding.

"Helped? As in cured?"

The two nodded.

"_Non._ None were ever cured in my country."

America's face fell almost comically. He looked at England sadly. England looked back at him, then seemed to realize something.

"In your country?"

"_Oui_. I believe that Italy was able to cure several of the werewolves that resided in his homeland.

"Now before you go," he said seriously, "I'd like to know why you're interested in finding a cure." He smiled and laughed. "Don't tell me one of _you_ is a werewolf! _C'est impossible!_"

America and England shared another look. France caught this one and frowned. "You're… joking, right?" They shook their heads. "Which one of you…?"

England pointed to America. America swallowed the last of his croissant and pointed to himself.

"Oh, you poor _enfant!_" cried France, embracing America. "It must be so hard for you! How long have you been a werewolf?"

"Um… about two months…" said America, struggling to escape from France's grip.

France backed out and looked at him sadly. "I wish you all the best, _amerique_. But _angleterre_, why are you with him?"

"I can do a simple spell to keep him subdued when transformed."

"Uh-huh."

"What was that 'uh-huh' for!?"

"Anyway, you two have no time to waste! Find Italy and ask him about a cure!" France pushed them both out the door. "_Au revoir!_"


	5. America, Are You Sure?

"Oh, America and England! _Ciao, ciao_! Come in, you're just in time! I just finished making pasta for dinner, but I made too much!" Italy led them inside the kitchen and dished up some pasta.

When the pasta had been laid out and everyone had settled, Italy swallowed his bite and said, "So, what is it? Do you two want some trade agreements or something? Because I'm already in a trade agreement with Greece…"

England swallowed his as well (America was still stuffing his face) and said, "We were curious… about the werewolves in your country."

Italy's face took on a sad expression, one that did not suit him at all. "What did you want to know?"

America stopped stuffing his face long enough to ask if he had cured any of the werewolves.

"Well… yes, a few of them were cured, but not many because the cure was really hard to get…"

England and America looked at one another. England said, "Do you know what the cure was made of?"

"Oh! Yes!" Italy got up and started rummaging through drawers. "I have it right here…" Eventually he pulled out a piece of paper and smoothed the creases. He handed it to the other nations, who (because it was very old) carefully took it and read the instructions (England read them aloud, translating from Italian.)

Cure for Lycanthropy

Required:

Four measures of water

Two dried buds of the purple mountain flower

One leaf from the white lily

Five sprigs of wolf's bane

Two sprigs of rosemary

Three rosehips

One ground cinnamon stick (for taste)

Directions:

I) Obtain all required ingredients.

II) Rub dried buds between two fingers so as to crumble into the water. Carefully stir with a silver spoon. Mixture should turn a pleasant lavender.

III) Tear leaf into strips and place one at a time into bud and water solution while stirring.

IV) Drop sprigs at the same time into the mixture. Stir vigorously. Mixture should turn a violent red.

V) Put one rosemary leaf in at a time. Stir.

VI) Stir in rosehips. Mixture should be of the palest green.

VII) If desired, sprinkle ground cinnamon stick into mixture. This will make the mixture taste much less foul.

VIII) Have lycanthrope drink the mixture as quickly as possible while in wolf form. The cure may take up to one hour to complete. While undergoing cure, the lycanthrope may:

Writhe on the ground

Have hair repeatedly sprout and shrink on body

Give terrible noises

IX) One must not give any food or drink to the lycanthrope while the cure is progressing.

X) Once cured, any persons the lycanthrope changed while under the spell will also be cured; although having to go through the same pain as the original cured.

England finished reading the text. There was a long pause while Italy and America finished their pasta.

"Are you sure that you want to do this, America? It sounds unpleasant."

America put on his 'I'm determined' face and said, "I'm sure! It'll be worth it!"

"Why do you guys want the cure, anyway?" said Italy curiously.

"…excuse us for a second, Italy." America dragged England to the living room.

"What do we do?" he whispered. "Should we tell him?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Because I don't know! I want to tell him the truth, but I don't want too many people to know!"

"So ask him not to tell anyone!"

"Fine, but if I end up with a steak through my heart, you better feel guilty."

"…the stake is supposedly for vampires."

"Fine, then fish meat or something, not a steak." He dragged England back to the kitchen.

"Sorry about that, Italy."

"It's okay! So why the cure?"

"Well… the thing is…" America glanced nervously at England, who made a 'go ahead' gesture. "Um… I recently became a werewolf."

Italy looked at him and started crying.

"Whoa, Italy! Calm down, man!" America and England went to comfort him.

"Why are you crying, Italy?" said England.

"B… because… I always felt so sorry for the werewolves! They couldn't help themselves! And now that you're one, America… I… don't want you to be a mindless killing machine every month, too!"

"Italy, it's okay! England can help me while I'm a wolf! I promise I won't kill anyone, okay?"

Italy looked up with a tear-streaked face. "Promise?"

"Promise."

"Okay…" he got up and wiped his eyes. "You two can keep the cure until you're cured, okay? And since you'll need to get the ingredients in my country… here…" he wrote something on a piece of paper and gave them a government card. "This'll get you two sixty percent discounts on anything – hotels, restaurants…"

"Thank you, Italy!" said England, amazed by his generosity.

"_Ciao!_ Good luck!" Italy cried, waving them goodbye as they exited.

"Thanks for the pasta and discounts!"

* * *

**Since I was typing this on Word, the Cure text was in a cool Brush Script font, but that was lost when it was submitted here :(**


	6. America, Pay Attention

**I always thought that Monte Bianco (Mont Blanc) was in Switzerland, not Italy, until I looked it up. Come to think of it, maybe it crosses into Switzerland at some point.**

* * *

England and America stood looking up at Monte Bianco. They had gotten there in about twenty-eight days, what with the distance, the too-friendly Italians, and America's meddling. England had declared that they would try to get their hands on the mountain flower first – which, according to the locals, was more properly known as Glory-of-the-Snow.

"Well, we're here."

"I believe we've already established that. Now help me get these hiking supplies out."

"Oh? Why do you need _my_ help, Iggy?"

"Because it will go faster with two people."

"…and?"

"And because that way we'll get the flower faster."

"…_and?_"

England growled, "…because you're stronger than me."

America smiled in a very pleased-with-himself way and grabbed a few things out of the trunk. "Alrighty! Where should we go?"

"Well, there's a trail that goes quite a ways up. We should be able to find the flower near the top of the trail, since it naturally grows at high altitudes."

"Sure, whatever," said America, who hadn't really been listening. "So where should we go?"

"America, have you been tested for ADHD recently?"

"What? Sorry, but this butterfly is really cool…"

"…well, that answers that."

* * *

They hiked through the mountain for the entire day, but only succeeded in getting halfway up to the top because of a certain nation.

"Do you want to call it a day, America?"

"Sure, but can we eat something first?"

"Of course." They sat down to a meal of cold canned beans and sausages. By the time England had finished his, it was dark and the moon was starting to come out. America was about to point this out to England when he saw England already staring up at the moon in shock.

"What? It's not _that_ pretty, is it?"

"America… that's the full moon."

"What?" America laughed. "C'mon, sure it _looks_ full, but… hold on a sec." He took out his phone and quickly tapped an app. His eyes widened. "Shit."

"Don't worry. Look—" The Brit pointed to the rock wall several feet away. "I'll stay up there. That way I can keep an eye on you so when you transform, I'll be out of harm's way and can subdue you."

"What if I try staying up all night? D'you think that would help?"

England shrugged uncertainly. "It wouldn't hurt to give it a try."

"Sweet! I can stay up and play games!"

"…"

* * *

England sat on the crevice in the wall, keeping an eye on America. According to his watch, midnight was only two minutes away. He snapped his head up, realizing that he had been about to fall asleep. It's not your fault, he told himself. It's the crickets' chirping. Yes, it's the crickets' fault for being so soothing. And the stars that twinkled above him, it was like they were chanting, sleep, sleep, sleep…

Sleep.

* * *

America looked up only thirty seconds before midnight, just in time to see England's head drop to his chest. His eyes widened.

"England!" He yelled. "Wake up, dude! Wake—"

The minute hand ticked to the 12. America abruptly stopped yelling. Instead, a low growl emitted from his throat. He tried to stand up, tried to control the beast, but fell over and started shaking. The human America lost consciousness. When he opened his eyes again, he was the wolf. The wolf tore off what little cloth was left on its body and gave a growl that transformed into a howl. The wolf took off down the path, sniffing for fresh, warm meat…


	7. America, It's Okay

England's eyes slowly opened. Blinking and stretching, he yawned. He looked down at the campsite, with the animal tracks in the dirt, the clothing shreds—

He gasped, the events of last night flooding back to him. Quickly and cautiously, he climbed down the wall and raced to the scene. Shreds of clothing – _America's_ clothing – lay scattered on the ground, along with a phone laying nearby, while both human and wolf prints covered the area. Hurriedly, he gathered up the pieces and raced down the mountain, tracking the wolf prints.

_I hope there wasn't anyone else out last night…_

* * *

America slowly opened his eyes. He stretched, giving a ferocious yawn. Running his fingers through his hair, he felt a breeze around his nether regions. Looking down at his naked body, he remembered what happened and his eyes widened. Glancing around, he realized that there was a bloody mess of… something… close by. Part of the flesh was torn off. Trembling, he lifted his hand and checked the nails. They were streaked with red. His mouth… he gently wiped his mouth and checked the palm. It was even redder than before. Suddenly hearing a noise, he turned his head and saw England standing behind him. Seeing shreds of clothing in his arms, and his horrified yet sad expression, forced him to come to an awful conclusion. Tears poured from his eyes and he sobbed into his blood-stained hands.

England ran forward. "America, it's all right!" America was crying too loudly to hear him, however, and his face was still covered by his hands. England's eyes filled with tears as well, triggered by the Yankee's, and he quietly walked over and checked the body.

It was a deer… just a deer. Not a human at all. He let out his breath, which he'd been unaware of holding, and walked back to America, who was still sobbing.

"America…" he said, shaking his shoulder gently. "America, it's okay."

England's words were finally heard and he looked up, his face now streaked with tears and blood alike. "Iggy…" he cried. "I killed a person! I – I'm a murderer!"

"America—" England sighed, figuring that he would talk to him when he calmed down. Gently helping him up, he half walked, half dragged him back to the campsite (no easy feat, giving America's weight and the distance – they were halfway down from where they'd camped). Eventually they arrived, where America promptly flew to the tent and threw his head onto a sleeping bag, sobbing like a schoolgirl. England sadly watched him for a minute, and then started cleaning up around the area.

About five minutes after that, the sobs dwindled to hiccups and gasps, which stopped a minute later. There was a rustling of things being moved around, and America slowly climbed out of the tent, now fully clothed and no longer crying, although still with a blood-stained mouth and fingers.

"England," he said dully, "is there some water I can use to wash the blood off?"

England wordlessly gestured toward a small jug. America nodded and grabbed it, pouring the water onto his hands and face, rubbing furiously. In less than a minute he was reasonably clean. England beckoned him to sit across from him on the chairs they had brought. America sat down heavily, sadly. England cleared his throat and America looked up.

"America, first of all, it wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was," he muttered. "I killed an innocent—"

"Deer," England interrupted.

America looked up, confused. "Wh-what?"

"It was a deer. I checked the body; I'm certain it was a deer, and at the very least, not a human."

It took a long time for England's words to sink in. When they did, America's eyes filled with tears – not of sadness, but of relief. "You're sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. I'm the bloody United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. How can I not be sure?" He smiled at America gently, whose tears had spilled over onto his cheeks like rivers. He leaned forward and hugged England, who hugged him back. Then America pulled away sharply.

"Wait, if it was a deer, what were those cloth scraps?"

"…those were yours." He held up the bag of clothing, which America grabbed and peered inside.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

* * *

**Slightly shorter chapter than usual, but I think it's the best so far.**


	8. America, Use Your Own Money

America and England were heading back down the mountain. It was evening, and they had at last picked the flower buds they needed. Said buds were in a small bag, and England said that they would take some time to dry, but no more than a month. While they walked and chatted, they ran into a couple coming up the mountain.

"_Buon giorno_!" they greeted as the pairs met. "_Come va_?"

America looked at England, who replied to the Italians in their language. When they heard him speak, a look of realization passed across their faces.

"Ah, you speak English?" said the man. England nodded.

The woman said something to her husband in Italian. He nodded and turned back to England and America.

"We were walking up the mountain and we saw the body of a deer." America stiffened slightly. "You two should be careful. One never knows what wild animals could live here."

"We'll be careful," England promised. "We were just heading back down anyhow."

"Ah, good! Well then, we must be on our way. Good bye!"

"_Arrevidarci!_" called the woman over her shoulder. The couple turned the corner and disappeared from view. The other two walked down the mountain in silence, back to the rental car.

* * *

"Let's see here…" England studied the list of ingredients. "It says here that we need 'one leaf from the white lily.' A lily shouldn't be too hard to find."

Unfortunately, a lily turned out to be very hard to find. Apparently they were uncommon in this part of the country. However, they eventually came upon some apparently wild white flowers, which England declared to be lilies. But as they were plucking a leaf from a stem, an Italian farmer charged up to them and started talking extremely quickly, waving his hands wildly. England waited until the man paused for breath, at which he responded in Italian. Like the couple, the man realized something and asked if they spoke English. England affirmed this. The man took a deep breath and started over, slightly slower.

"Listen, you're on my property. If you take that leaf, I'm going to have to ask you to pay for it."

England took out his wallet, but America stopped him, insisting that the hero should pay. England was grateful for a minute, until America simply took England's wallet, took some coins, and gave them to the man. He seemed uncertain, but took the money regardless and allowed them to keep the leaf. England wouldn't speak to America all the way back.

* * *

America wrinkled his nose. "Ugh, something smells really really bad…" he covered his nose. England sniffed the air.

"Odd, I don't smell anything."

"Ugh… it's getting stronger…" America backed away a bit and sat down on a rock. England watched him for a minute, and then continued on. It was only ten steps until he came upon a patch of wolfsbane. Realizing what might have happened, he plucked two sprigs and brought them closer to America, who covered his nose as much as possible and eyes started to water. England nodded.

"America, it's probably the plant. The wolfsbane is what you're smelling. Since you're, well, a werewolf, your nose is much more sensitive to this plant."

"Okay, okay, just get it away!"

England went back and picked three more sprigs of the herb. Wrapping them as thickly and as tightly as possible in his clothes, he came back to where America was sitting. It apparently wasn't thick enough, however, for America continued to stay a few steps ahead of England.

* * *

**Um... wow... I am so sorry for the short chapter... totally unintentional.**


	9. America, We're Almost Done

"This is excellent!" exclaimed England. "Only two more ingredients and the cure can be made!"

"Great, as long as I don't have to smell that stuff anymore."

England was searching a flower store for rosehips. America was hanging back, because flower shops were 'not heroic.'

"Can I help you?" asked a cheerful Italian shopkeeper. England nodded.

"Yes, do you carry rosehips?"

"No, I usually carry pasta…"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I meant do you sell rosehips here," apologized England.

"Oh, yes! We have some in the back!" the Italian led England to the back of the store's storeroom, where there were several strange-looking plants. "Hardly anyone orders these plants and things, so we keep them in the back!"

He pointed out the rosehips to England, who picked out three healthy-looking ones. He turned back to the man. "Thank you very much. And I'm sorry to bother you again, but do you also carry rosemary? And possibly some cinnamon sticks?"

"Sure!" And in just ten minutes England had the rest of the ingredients. He thanked the Italian heartily and went to America, who was hanging about in the shop entrance. America said something, and England nodded. America's face got visibly brighter, and they went back to the car.

* * *

"What're you doing?" said America as England got out various things – a jar, for one, and some parchment paper.

"I'm getting out the materials for the drying process. It should take only a week."

"Aaaaaaaaw, maaaaaaan! I don't wanna wait a whole week!"

"…it's only another two weeks after this one, because the mixture must be drunk while you're in wolf form."

"God dammit…" America flopped on the couch. "What're we gonna do until then?"

"We could go sight-seeing. Italy's country has a rich history and culture. It would be worth our time to see some structures and the country in general."

There was a sudden, firm knock on the door. England and America jumped. America hurried to the door and he stepped back in surprise.

"Germany?" he said. "What are you doing here?"

"If you must know, I am visiting _Italien, _and I am staying in this hotel before I reach his house. I came because I thought that I heard your voices. Anyway, I could ask you two the same question."

"Oh, America wanted to do some sight-seeing, but his Italian isn't very good, so I'm here along with him." England came up and nodded in greeting. Germany nodded back.

"Well, I just wanted to know if you two really were here. _Auf wiedersehen._" He shut the door, leaving America and England standing at the door.

"…that was weird."

"I concur."

* * *

England and America spent the day walking around the northern part of Italy. They bumped into Romano later in the day, who demanded to know if the burger bastard and the tea bastard were invading. After many assurances that they were not, he went on his way, grumbling about the no-good English people.

Soon after running into Romano, they ran into Italy, who greeted them happily and asked if America had kept his promise. America affirmed this, to which Italy's smile grew wider, and he wished them good luck before pointing out a nice pasta restaurant at which they could have dinner. They thanked him and he was on his way, strolling down the street.

They had some very delicious pasta for dinner, with gelato for dessert, although America insisted that ice cream was better.

Later that night, England checked the buds while America slept and was surprised to find that they were nearly dry already. This flower seemed to have some strange properties. At this rate, it would be ready by tomorrow.

* * *

**Three Weeks Later**

"Let's see…" England studied the recipe with the ingredients, a silver spoon, and a china bowl in front of him. America looked on, constantly checking the clock. It was ten minutes to midnight.

"Rub dried buds between fingers as to crumble into the water…" pouring the water into the bowl, he carefully crumbled the buds into the water. They dissolved, turning the liquid a light shade of purple. He tore the lily leaf into strips, and taking up the silver spoon, stirred the water while adding the strips. They, too, dissolved. Then he took the wolfsbane sprigs (America stepped away and covered his nose) and dropped them in as well while stirring. As the recipe stated, the mixture turned bright red. America leaned over and dropped in one leaf of rosemary at a time, painstakingly slow. England gave it a quick stir and added the rosehips – turning the concoction a sea-green color. England looked at America.

"I assume you want the cinnamon stick?"

"Well, yeah," muttered America, and then looked at the clock. "Hurry, dude! It's 11:59!"

England hurried, pouring in the cinnamon powder he had ground up before hand. Stirring the mixture, which turned slightly away from green with the added spice, he set it up in a safe place – so that America wouldn't knock it over accidentally, he explained.

And he set it there just in time, for at that moment the clock ticked to midnight.


	10. America, You're Cured!

As soon as the clock struck midnight, America's expression changed from one of anxiety to one of pain. He looked as if he were straining hard against something, his entire frame trembling, his legs starting to buckle.

"It's all right, America!" England called from on top of the bed's frame, where he presumed he would be safe for the time being. "You don't have to fight it! You can only take the cure in wolf form!"

America gratefully stopped resisting. His legs finally buckled and, like the last two times, hair sprouted and his clothes ripped. The predatory eyes opened and the wolf stood up, sniffing the air. Faster than before, England performed the spell and in no time at all America was himself. He whined, and England fetched the bowl containing the cure. Placing it in front of the wolf, he backed up a couple of steps. America's eyes watered, probably from the now slightly dulled stench of the wolfsbane plant, but he quickly lapped up the mixture.

The effect was almost instantaneous. He gave a sudden howl – a piercing howl that sounded like it could break glass, which made England wince – and fell upon his side, shaking madly and giving off strange sounds that were a mixture of whimpers and yells.

At that moment Germany, summoned by the howl, came bursting in yelling "America, England, if you two have a dog, please make it shut—what the hell is going on here?"

America, who was still writhing and sprouting and shrinking hair, gave off another strange yell / whine. England cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"I-Is that…"

"No, no it is not," said England quickly.

"But…"

"You're hallucinating."

"I'm not—"

"Yes you are."

"But he's clearly—"

"He's clearly just fine, not on the ground at all. You'd best be off now, Germany. I don't want to catch whatever it is you have to give you those strange visions." He quickly shoved Germany out the door, closing and locking it this time. He turned back to America, reluctantly keeping an eye on his progress. He didn't like seeing the poor boy in pain, but he had to be there in case something went wrong.

* * *

It was at least an hour later when the whimpers died away. America lay curled up now, a human again. He shakily stood up. He licked his lips, swallowed, and spoke:

"Those instructions were bullshit. The cinnamon stick didn't do anything at all."

England smiled. "You've just been cured, and that's the first thing you say?"

"Well, yeah. Now if you'll excuse me, I am going to sleep." And so he did, promptly collapsing unconscious on the floor and snoring. England stared for a moment before covering him with a blanket and falling asleep as well.

* * *

"…so yeah, Italy, I'm cured…"

England opened his eyes blearily to see America talking on the phone.

"…you done spinning now? Okay, good. Anyway, can you call France and let him know? I sort of forgot his phone number… okay, thanks, bye. Yeah, _ciao _to you too." He hung up and turned to see England watching him.

"Mornin', Iggy!"

"…how are you awake before me?"

"I was hungry."

"It figures…" England stretched and yawned. "Since you've already eaten, I'll just grab something and we can be on our way…"

"What?" America blinked. "No way! This is a special occasion! Besides, I haven't eaten yet – I was waiting for you. We need to get dressed and go out to a fancy restaurant!"

"Yes, we _do_ need to get dressed," England said, noting that America was still butt-naked.

"Well, come on, Iggy! Get up! It's a beautiful day!"

And sure enough, the sun was shining brightly, shining with all its might.

* * *

~Fin~

* * *

**I intended for this story to be a bit longer than this, but I'm reasonably satisfied with the result. Thank you all for your support, minna-sama~!**


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